


Flower Power!!!

by Sorbus



Series: Superhero AU! [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: But Humour really, Gen, Harry is a Little Shit, Hints towards man eating plants, I swear, Plant Power Neville, superhero au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 04:46:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8475958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorbus/pseuds/Sorbus
Summary: Neville was quite happy being a sidekick. Just him, his plants and the odd overconfident hero that needed to be taught a lesson.





	

Neville Longbottom was a very ordinary boy. He came from a plain British family, lived in a nice neighbourhood, and had the harmless, if relatively boring hobby of tending to plants.

Well, if one could talk to plants, that was.

"You're looking very pretty today, Joyce." Neville hummed, while pruning the rose bush. If one looked closely, the surrounded roses seemed to quiver slightly at the compliment.

In the vast hierarchies of Hogwarts Academy for Heroes and Sidekicks the ability to talk to plants didn't rate high up on the scale. You couldn't really control them (and Neville would be having _words_ with anyone who had thought to treat plants in such a way), though if you asked nicely then they might do the odd favour or two. Dorice, for example, was a small apple tree that was particularly helpful in providing some fruit if you asked very carefully. Neville was sure that she tried extra hard to make the sweetest, juicest apple around, too, so it was only common couresty that he didn't just take them.

(Anyone who did found themselves spontaneously covered in a foul smelling moss the next morning. A very odd phenomenon, Neville was sure.)

As it was, this limited ability had inevitably classed Neville as a certified Sidekick. The slightly chubby, brunet boy hardly cared, and in fact new anti-descrimination legislation was giving Neville benefits he'd never had before.

His very own greenhouse.

Plants sprawled from one wall to another, trees and flowers and bushes and vines coming together in what seemed like a jungle of greenery. It was beautiful, in a very organised chaos sort of way, and each and every one of the plants were personally tended to by Neville himself.

A distant boom echoed in the silence of the greenhouse, and Neville paused for a moment before shrugging and resuming trimming the leaves of a very fussy Oak tree. Victor hated being anything besides as perfectly round as possible.

Another boom sounded, closer by, which was also shrugged off. Weird sounds were a given in a school cantering to children with superpowers.

Neville had just opened his mouth to ask Harriet if she was getting enough sunlight when a resounding crash split the air and a figure fell through the newly created hole in the roof. Glass sprinkled down from the opening, and the sudden and invasive sounds of the outside world drifted in.

Groaning, and in the center of the wreckage was a very familiar sight.

Harry Potter.

Harry the Superhero. Harry with the ability to fly. Harry with the super strength.

Harry who was crushing his Marigolds.

Neville rushed over with a cry.

"Oh no! Are you alright?"  
  
He fell to his knees at the sight, just as Harry was picking glass out of his hair. The green eyed boy looked up in surprise.

"Oh, hullo there Neville. I'm fine, th- _anks! Ow!_ "

He hadn’t finished his sentence before being unceremoniously tossed aside.

"Joshua, Megan, Emily!" Neville sobbed, cradling broken stems and ripped yellow petals close to his chest.

Grumbling, the superhero stood up and dusted himself off. He glanced at Neville with the look one gave another if they were being completely and utterly mental.

"Are you crying over _flowers_?"

Neville shot him a glare. It was oddly harsh on his usually pleasant face, and automatically Harry backed away.

"Hey, come on," he placated, raising his hands in defence. "It was only a couple of plants-"

"It was _not_ ," Neville snapped, "just a couple of plants."

"Okay, okay-"

"No!" The chubby boy scrambled to his feet and pointed a finger right at Harry's face. Harry glanced at it dubiously. "It's not alright that you heroes can keep bullying everyone else, with your stupid powers and your _stupid face_ -"

"Oi!"

"And your stupid _I'm Harry Potter, all I know how to do is punch things and gets in people's way_ -"

"Hey," Harry interrupted, sounding genuinely irritated now. "There's no reason to be just a berk about plants."

Neville's face seemed not to quite know whether it wanted to screw up in anger or break down in tears.

"I'm Harry Potter," Neville started once again, voice high and mocking. "I don't bother to know about other people's powers even though I've lived with them for _five bloody years_!"

"I do know!" Harry replied indignantly.

"Oh really." Neville crossed his arms. "What is it then?"

"It's, uh, got something to do with plants." Harry glanced at the crushed marigolds before quickly darting back to Neville, who was trying very hard not to throw his hands up in despair.

"You can't- you can't like, _feel_ them, can you?" Harry asked, sounding all at once slightly horrified and oddly excited. "But what if you get a-"

"I don't feel my plants!" Neville snapped. "I can talk to them, and I nurture them, and every single one is a friend I've spent hours with every day, and you've killed them!"

By the end of it, Neville was panting; harsh breaths slowly calming down in time with his cooling anger. Despite it all, the brown eyed boy hardly was a very agressive person. Now if the other boy could only apologise-

"Oh wow," Harry muttered lowly, but loud enough for Neville to pick up on. " _Lame_."

Neville took that back. He wouldn't be satisfied until this pig headed, _absolute twat_ got what was coming for him.

"Beatrice."

"Bea- who's Beatrice?"

Neville didn't reply, instead looking pointedly at Harry's legs, where a number of vines were slowly making their way upwards.

"Oi, _what the hell_ \- are these _sticky_?" Harry scrambled to get free. "Neville, what the hell, Neville, I can't _move_."

Neville hummed airly. "Ah yes. Beatrice is a particularly rare plant, nicknamed Devil's Snare for its paralytic abilities and the tendency to trap struggling bodies with surprising viciousness."

He smiled, ignoring Harry's increasingly frantic cries as he was slowly mummified and dragged away. "They're distantly related to the Venus fly trap, which also has movement triggered traps in common - well, among other things."

Neville's smile for a moment turned shockingly vicious, before becoming pleasant once more. "Isn't that _fascinating_?"

Eerie quiet greeted him in answer.

"No?"

Neville sighed before happily going back to work, ignoring the very faint and ever dying cries for help. They'd find him.

In a week or two.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Well, Harry is a bit of a (complete and utter) pillock, at times.
> 
> The insults are just various English slang words for jerk in case you didn't know.


End file.
